


A Christmas basket

by Televa



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Televa/pseuds/Televa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is heading to the season's biggest Christmas party at their campus - except Arthur, who is not invited. Hearing this fact from Feliciano and Ludwig, Francis decides that some things are worth of missing a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evening

**Author's Note:**

> Ohayo! I hope you'll have fun with this little fellow, just like I'm having atm. The second (and perhaps the 3rd too, if I'm writing it), will be posted tomorrow. Consider this as a present for you all :3  
> Btw, I do not own Hetalia, and I do not get profit. I'm just writing because it's fun.

Arthur was bored. He had spent the whole day with Flying Mint Bunny trying to clean up his flat, but after four hours of scraping the floors and the kitchen closets, he gave up and made himself a large cup of tea before having visitors. He was talented in making a mess, but cleaning was a different thing. So, there he was, sitting alone in his kitchen at 9 P.M., resting his head on right hand and trying to come up with something to do.

It was Christmas Eve, and he had nothing to do. Feliciano and Ludwig had left several hours earlier, only making a quick visit, and since that Arthur had sat in the same place. The world outside was dark, despite everything was covered in snow of two centimetres. He was almost ready to give in his solitude and go to sleep early, when there was suddenly a knock on his front door. Well this was weird, for he didn't expecting any visitors anymore.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur walked to the door and opened it before changing his mind. What was behind the door was something Arthur had not expect.

Francis Bonnefoy. Francis Bonnefoy was standing right there, right before Arthur's eyes, and he was holding a basket and a wine bottle in his hands.

"May I come in, Arthur?" the French asked with a slightly amused tone in his voice. Still surprised and perhaps a little astonished, Arthur just nodded and let the other in. Francis tossed the basket and the wine to Arthur, who just went to kitchen and set the items on the table. He was puzzled. Why was Francis here? Why did he act like nothing had happened between them? Shouldn't he have someone more important to meet with?

Busying himself with questions, Arthur began to unpack the basket but was soon interrupted.

"I ran into Feli and Ludwig earlier. They told you decided to be alone today, so knowing you, I assumed you would only lock yourself into your study for the holidays and not eat in four days," Francis explained while taking out a pack of cheese, a luxurious amount of bread and biscuits. Arthur only nodded again, but then remembered something.

"Did they tell you about the party?" he asked voice shaking. Oh why did he ask that when he could guess the answer, and he really didn't need to hear the truth. It hurt anyway.

"Oui, they did. Arthur, as soon as I realized that you're not participating, I sent Tonio a message and excused myself."

Arthur was stunned. Did Francis just tell him that he had skipped the year's biggest Christmas party at the campus just because Arthur wasn't invited?

"Why, Frog?" was everything he could say without letting his voice shatter. The Brit felt dizzy and he needed to sit down immediately before collapsing on the floor.

"No one deserves to spend Christmas alone, not even you, Arthur. To be honest, I don't see any reason why you weren't invited, because you are a marvelous man - no matter what the others think about you," the Frenchman kept on babbling, but as soon as he noticed the small tears forming in the corners of Arthur's green eyes, he stopped and went to sit on the chair next to Arthur's.

"Well, it looks like you are wrong this time, Frog. I am completely fine with spending my holiday alone, thank you, and I do not need your pity to make me feel better. Thank you for dropping by, but you have to leave now," the master of the flat announced and stood up. He really could cope without the French's pity, that was clear, but there was a new feeling tucking its head in his stomach. Arthur frowned. Was this... relief? Gratitude? He didn't want to find out.

"Non, Arthur. I'm not leaving, not this time. I shall spend the rest of this day and tomorrow with you, and there's no way you can escape. After tomorrow, you are free to do whatever you want to." Francis only smiled softly. He knew that Arthur would reject him, it had happened so many times before, but he couldn't understand why. He cared deeply and it hurt him to see from afar how his British friend just stayed away from everyone even then, when he was alone.

"But...... Why? Right now, you could be at the party fucking some random beauties and having fun, so why to spend a precious Christmas with me?"

This time Francis rolled his eyes. He turned Arthur to face him, cupping the other's face.

"Because I want to spend this Christmas with you, not with them. They weren't there when I lost my family nor were they there when I had the darkest times of my life. But you, Arthur, you were there with me. You were there helping me when I needed you most. Ha, without you I even wouldn't be here at all," Francis gave a quick look to his wrists and to the two long scars. He smiled sadly.

"We need each other, don't we?"

"Fine. But, if you really intend to spend this Christmas here, remember this: I don't want to find you, in any point, wandering around my home naked. Am I understood, Francis?" Arthur gave him a stern gaze, which made shivers run in his guest's back.

"Honhonhonhon, isn't that something you'd want to see, mon cher?" Francis joked and patted Arthur's back a tad too lower, which earned him a sharp smack on his cheek.

"Bloody pervert."

"Oh you wouldn't want me any other way, mon petit lapin."

They both chuckled this time, and Arthur managed to even break a proper smile in many days. Perhaps letting Francis stay over for a couple of days could be bearable. Within a half of an hour they readied the couch for Francis, and then it was already late so they decided to hit the sack. They both had had a long day, and a good amount of sleep was something they both needed.

"Bonne nuit, cher," the French muttered as he slipped inside the warm cocoon of blankets.

"G'night, Frog," the Brit muttered in return as he wandered to his own room, to his own bed, where he knew that Flying Mint Bunny was waiting for him to be cuddled.

"....and thank you." Knowing that he had done the right decision, Francis turned to face the room, tucked the blanket between his legs and waited for the sleep to come.


	2. Christmas morning

When Arthur woke up to a smell of fresh breakfast, which was something he wasn't used to, the whole room was filled with warm light of a winter morning. As he opened his eyes, he was greeted with Francis sitting next to him with a platter on his lap. The Frenchman gave him a blissful smile.

"Bonjour, ma cher. Did you sleep well?" he asked as Arthur slowly rose to sit next to his guest. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the blurriness of the world, but it didn't help him a lot. The messy-haired blond nodded, but then he saw the platter. For a second he looked like had never seen anything like that, like it was completely beyond anyone's imagination that someone could make him a breakfast in bed, but then he remembered his pride and only gave the French a questioning look.

"Didyeh make this fer meh?" he asked, his accent a lot thicker on mornings than normally. Arthur turned his head away embarrassed, cursing himself. God, why was he acting like a blushing maiden, when he was supposed to be a true English gentleman from the first ray of sunlight to the very last? He mentally face-palmed himself and turned back to face his guest. Now, when his sight wasn't so blurry anymore, he gave another look to the platter. This time it looked delicious and completely edible, which wasn't anything new knowing Francis' cooking skills.

"Oui, I did. Merry Christmas, Arthur. Now open your mouth so I can feed you," the French suggested and grabbed a piece of bread that was covered in a pile of cheese. He pressed the bread against Arthur's closed mouth, which stayed closed. The Brit gave his guest his best death glare before taking the bread from Francis' hand. It tasted as delicious as it looked, and Arthur could feel how the cheese and butter and bread melted in his mouth.

It didn't take him long to finish his breakfast, when Francis was snatching small pieces of food from the platter from time to time (quite often). Once the two small plates were empty, just like the large cup of tea Arthur had finished first, they gathered everything together and took the stuff back to kitchen. What was waiting for them in the so-called living room was everything else except understandable: in the middle of the flat there was a fully decorated Christmas tree, and under it were a handful of packets. If Arthur had been surprised to find Francis from behind his door on the day before, he was now astonished.

"You bloody asshole, what have you done to my flat?!" He was ready to start a fight, but instead of screaming and shouting, he articulated his question as slowly and clearly as possible. This... this... this bloody annoying Frenchman had turned his flat into a some kind of postcard picture of a Christmas shop. The whole decoration was so unlike of him, and he wouldn't never believe that his beloved flat full of books and papers and more books, would look so Christmassy. It was almost terrifying how it suited him, as he now gave a another thought for it. But that was something he'd never admit aloud in the Frenchman's presence. Never.

"I think it looks merveilleux, considering the nonexistent amount of decoration items in your flat. But, I tried my best, and that should be enough," Francis just smiled and admired his work of the morning's early hours. Because he hadn't slept well, waking up every tenth minute, he'd decided to get rid of the lack Christmassy of look in Arthur's home. And, to be honest with himself, he'd "nailed it like a boss"; every corner of the living room was filled with small candles and old, small hand-made elves that had glasses on and a small paper in their hand, and the table was covered with a red tablecloth. In the middle of the room was a two-meter-long Christmas tree, which was something Francis was very proud of despite it being collapsible and made of plastic. And stolen from Gilbert's storage, because the young troublemaker wasn't a friend of Christmas.

After Arthur's anger had subsided, the Brit got curious. He studied the items closer, smoothed them with his fingers, and once he got familiar with the items, he just put them back to the table and grabbed the next one. He felt like a five-year-old toddler who has just been told that Santa had left some packets for him, but he tried to act as formally as possible. He was excited, and there was no point in denying it because it was easily seen. Francis chuckled himself as he tied his hair up and went to do the dishes.

Two hours later, when the day had dawned properly and carols could be heard everywhere if one opened a window, the two young men were sitting on the floor laughing harder than never before. It was a rare moment for them, not fighting or arguing but laughing instead, and they both liked it, but couldn't bring themselves to state it aloud. In some point of his hysterical laughter Francis managed to tip his eggnog over, which only made them to laugh more. In order to refill the cup, Arthur grabbed the wine bottle that Francis had brought on the day before, and poured the cup back to full. It was a beautiful day for the both of them, but when a pillow fight of two drunken youths started, the atmosphere changed.

Francis had hit Arthur's face with his pillow hard, sending Brit  down on the carpet, but in the middle of his falling he succeeded in pulling the other with him, so a heartbeat later they were piled up on the floor, Francis on the top of Arthur. As soon as their noses touched the magically cheerful atmosphere was dead gone, and what was remained was an odd feeling that something important would happen soon. But, instead of letting the situation go to that romantic point which was so obvious, Francis rolled off of Arthur and collapsed next him, but soon changed his mind. He could always blame the alcohol and their cheerful spirit, but he needed to cuddle to Arthur, to feel his chest rising and lowering. He needed to make sure that Arthur was really alive, so he turned and raised his head to rest it against Arthur's chest. Francis threw his right leg over the Brit's, and his right arm soon found its way around Arthur's stomach.

"Arthur, I think this has been the best Christmas this far," the French confessed murmuring against his friend's chest. He could feel how the other twirled a lock of hair around his fingers, which felt surprising good. Francis couldn't remember the last time something like that had happened, so the feeling was more than welcomed. But, there was something that needed to be done, something that he was scared of doing.

Making up his mind, the French rose up suddenly and without further hesitation he kissed Arthur, surprising the younger man entirely. The feeling.... it was beyond his imagination, and when he realized that he was kissed back, Francis felt more than good. He didn't dare to deepen the kiss, it was still all too fragile, but receiving a positive response made him only more eager. He carefully turned the master of the house entirely on the bottom, slipping his hand behind the other's neck to pull him closer.

Soon the French and the Brit, old childhood friends who had covered each other's back since kindergarten, were left breathless, and eventually the kiss, just like every other thing in life, ended with two young persons being ridiculously happy about the other's presence. 

"You should've done that earlier, you stupid Frog," Arthur made known. He raised his left hand to caress the soft locks of blonde hair that's tip grazed his cheek in the same rhythm that shook Francis' body gently as his heart beat. Green eyes stared into blue ones, and for that second the whole Christmas was gone and all that was left was a couple of two young adults, who had just discovered a whole new saga begin in their lives.

A "oui, I agree" was muttered in a low voice and they fell down back to their original position of Arthur being used as a human-sized  cuddle pillow. 

"Merry Christmas, Arthur, and thank you for letting me in yesterday. You have no idea how important you are to me."

"Merry Christmas, Francis."


End file.
